Demi-God: Chapter Two
by Fenyryn
Summary: N/A


I inhaled sharply, opening my eyes, only to see a bright light. Though I felt like I had been sleeping for several days, I still felt very tired. How I came to be in this bright, golden room was so very beyond me. It was a strange place, that's for sure. I looked around, noticing a strange object in the centre of the room that was glowing a light green colour.

"Do you remember your name?"

I jumped, looking at the doorway. There was a man standing there, with medium-length brunette hair and piercing blue eyes. Dad.

"Artemis," I replied quietly.

He stepped forward with a sigh. "Do you remember me?"

I sat up slowly. "Dad."

He smiled with relief.

I suddenly slammed back down onto the bed I was laying on. No pain, like usual, but I was worn out. But worn out from what?

"Do you remember what happened?" Dad asked.

I shook my head. "No. The last thing I remember is standing in line at the bank with Mom."

"Well, I'm not surprised."

I licked my lips, thinking. What was this, and what was going on? Did something happen to me? I felt older, sounded older. Where was Mom?

"What's going on?" I wondered aloud.

Dad sat on the edge of the bed. He looked grim all of a sudden. On top of that, now that he was closer, I could see that he hadn't slept in quite awhile. He swallowed hard. "Your mother is dead."

It felt like my heart stopped beating for a moment. Was it really true or was he lying to me? As my brain tried to process this information, he set his hands on my head. Without my noticing he pushed hard on my head. Suddenly a memory came back. The memory of Mom and I standing in the bank when everything went down.

"How did you do that?" I shivered.

"Don't be startled when I tell," he replied.

What he told me next sounded like something out of a fairytale. To sum it down, he told me that he was a god, but still my father. He travelled to earth – which was called Midgard from where he was from – and met a lovely girl who, what the gods called, a mortal. Someone I called, "Mom." However, when she became pregnant with yours truly, they weren't allowed to marry because they weren't married when I was conceived. My grandfather – Dad's father – labelled me as a bastard child. And even though Mom couldn't afford to take care of me, Grandfather forced Dad to leave me with her. Dad was only allowed to visit me once a year – on my birthday. Then he told me about how I was a demigoddess and the reason why I was called Artemis was because he was half Greek god and half Norse god.

His mother was full Greek goddess and his father was full Norse god. Dad told me that Grandmother loved children, so she was opposed to Grandfather making Dad leave me on Midgard. Then he went on to tell me about how it was pretty much destiny and fate that Mom would "sacrifice" herself to the bank robber, that I would move into Aunt Chanel's and Shenia's house, that I would get picked on, that those two would die of carbon monoxide poisoning, and I would swallow a whole ton of pills to try and kill myself.

I stared at my father in complete awe. What he was telling me was insane. I wanted to think – and believe – that I was in a coma and I was dreaming about this stuff. But when I pinched myself, I knew I wasn't in a coma or sleeping. Though I still felt like I was crazy and in an insane asylum. I then asked him how he was able to give me that one memory back.

"Simply because I saw it happening and I couldn't do anything," he replied.

I blinked at him, not believing what I was hearing. How could I believe it? Here I was, the girl that everyone at school hated and picked on, the girl who was a straight A+ student, only to find out that she was a demigoddess.

He placed his hands on my head again and gave me my memory of the project I hadn't gotten around to doing for Norwegian Mythology class. He had watched me go up to Mrs. Aaberg, ask to do it alone, and pick which Norse deity I wanted to do the project on.

"Okay, well, that still doesn't explain why I'm here and not in a grave or something back on Ear..." I stopped talking, my eye twitching slightly, "Midgard."

"See; when your grandfather died, he put a curse on you for the first time you died – which was expected – you were to be brought here," Dad explained.

_Gee, thanks, Grandfather, nice to know you loved me, _I thought sarcastically.

"But I should be dead," I said. "Wait; Grandfather is dead?"

"One: though you're half mortal, you can die, yes, but because you are also half deity, you will just be brought back to life with your memory wiped," he replied. "And your grandfather died because he was overwhelmed with the curse he put on you."

"That makes no sense."

Dad blinked for a moment. "No, it doesn't."

"So...what...? Oh, God, what year is it?"

"It is a...complicated conversion. But believe me, you were only sleeping for three days."

"I...guess this is a fairly good explanation why I have a weird accent and why you told me you lived in Europe, yeah?"

Dad shrugged, standing. "You can leave the Healing Room tom-"

"You still haven't told me where I am."

"Asgard."

I looked at him. Really, I shouldn't have been surprised by the weird name. But it sounded familiar. Maybe I had scanned over the word somewhere in the Norwegian Mythology text book. No, but I really should not have been hesitating to ask, "What?" in some form of upset manner. Instead I just laid there, blinking, staring at the ceiling all of a sudden. I was actually starting to feel crazy. So much so, I pinched myself very hard and yelped. Nope. I wasn't dreaming. There was my final validation.

"What did you do that for?" Dad asked.

"You know," I replied, "validation and stuff. I just wanted to make sure that I'm not going crazy. So what were you saying about me leaving this place?"

"Oh! You get to leave tomorrow."

Then it was just awkward silence. I would have spoken, but the only thing that would probably come out of my mouth would be something like where did "we" live, or where could I work. Both startled me and I didn't like being startled. I really had enough of that at school. School was basically a big no-no in Asgard, maybe. Did only the little kids go to school or did no one, altogether? I frowned at the thought of no school. School...

"Do not bother about school," a woman's voice from the doorway said.

Dad and I looked toward her. She looked like me, only older. Her hair was much longer than mine, but in a high ponytail and hanging over the front of her shoulder. Green eyes glistened. Her skin was like milk, her lips as red as rubies. She was gorgeous. This was my grandmother. And though she was my grandmother, she still looked young and beautiful to the equivalent of a thirty-something-year-old mortal woman.

She walked toward the bed, probably hoping I would know who she was. How could I not know who she was? We looked so much alike. Dad wasn't kidding when he told me that I looked just like Grandmother. "Do you know me?" she asked.

Her voice was soft, sweet and buttery. I liked it; her voice. She definitely looked like a gentle..."creature".

"Grandmother?" I asked.

Her eyes filled with gladness. I wondered which goddess she was. From her beauty, I was guessing...

"I'm Aphrodite," she sighed.

My eyes widened. How did she know what I was going to say before I did? Oh, God, could she read my mind? Or anyone's mind? Maybe that's how she knew I was obsessing over school. Still, she was nice, not withdrawn, but gentle and quiet.

"Do not be afraid, Artemis," Grandmother told me quietly. She turned to Dad, who I probably should have started calling, "Father". "Apollo, could you leave us be, if you would not mind?"

"Of course, Mother," he replied, walking out of the room.

Grandmother sat on the edge of the bed with a pleased sigh. "How are your memories doing, dear?"

"Well, there's, hmm... My mother dying in the bank robbery when I was eleven... There is the people picking on me, and then there's the project."

Grandmother tilted her head to the side slightly. " 'Project'?"

"For school. Where's my bag?"

Grandmother leaned over the edge and pulled out my bag from under the bed. She set it on my lap gently as I sat up. I carefully pulled out the book and opened it. The project outline sheet was tucked into the see-through text book cover. I flipped to who I was meant to do. "A project... It's something mortal kids do in a class they're in for grades. This one was for my Norse Mythology class; I was supposed to do Loki. This project is no more, I guess."

"I suppose not, hm?" Aphrodite said. "And just look at the... What is this?" She pointed to the picture on the page of, what I chose to call, a hideous looking thing while she handed me water with her other hand.

"It's a printed picture. Don't ask about that kind of stuff; it's confusing."

"Well, the picture looks nothing like Loki. He is much more handsome than the picture." She said "picture" as if she didn't understand the word. Perhaps she was used to saying "painting" or "photograph".

I spat the water out, thankfully missing Grandmother. "_What?!_"

"Do not do that, honey, it is not good for you." She stroked my hair gently, taking the water from me and setting it on the weird looking bedside table. "Forget I said anything."

***

The next day when I was allowed out of what was called the Healing Room, Grandmother took me to the little village marketplace so that I could get my own clothes. For the time being I was wearing one of her dresses from when she was a young goddess such as myself. Sure, the dress was comfortable, but the corset was horrible. Putting it on was much worse. I almost passed out because she had been pulling much too hard on the strings.

Of course, me being the overly-excited demigoddess right in the centre of something completely magical, I bumped into people, apologizing even though most of it wasn't my fault. Then the other people would apologize as well. It was nice to know that there were decent people somewhere in the "world". Well, Grandmother had told me to put my hair up for a reason. I guess my bumping into people and getting it caught in things was the reason. And it was a good reason to. All the materials used for doors and such were stronger than the ones used on Earth. For the first time in my life, I actually ended up getting hurt. It wasn't that bad – I barely felt anything – but it was annoying, since it was happening every few seconds to every few minutes.

"Sorry, it was my fault!" I exclaimed as the lady I bumped into dropped her basket of fruit.

"Don't worry about it, dear, it was an accident," she replied with a sincere smile.

I scrambled to the ground to help her get everything back into her basket. "Are these going to be okay? I could buy you cleaner ones."

"No, no, it is okay," she reassured me. "I' will just wash them very thoroughly. You are not Artemis by chance, are you?"

"Yes, I am. How did you know?"

"You look so much like your grandmother, that is all."

We stood and I handed her her basket. The both of us said our goodbyes. As she was walking away, Grandmother walked up to take me to what looked like a corset shop. When we walked in, a very happy girl, who I assumed was the assistant of the woman or man who owned the shop, ran up to me.

"Well, hello, there, Artemis!" she said excitedly.

I smiled, confused, looking at my grandmother. "Uh, hello?"

"Oh, where are my manners? I am Athena."

"So many goddesses at once, Grandmother," I sighed.

"Oh, so do you know what I am the goddess of?" Athena put a lock of curly blonde hair behind her ear and blinked her very dark blue eyes. "Wisdom, warfare, battle strategy, heroic endeavour, handicrafts and reason. That's why I work here most of the time and when a war comes along, off I go!" The last part she sing-songed. "Okay, then, what would you like?"

Apparently the place was more than just a corset place. There were dresses and war gear all over the place, except they were scattered throughout the place. That's why I had thought it was a corset place at first – the corsets were placed at the front.

"Well, since you're Goddess of the Hunt and what have you, my dear," she said, running throughout the store and grabbing things off the shelves, "we have to get you dressed in proper hunting gear! Oh, but for those working days... Hmm... Let's see..." Athena poked her head out from behind the shelves to look at the dress I was wearing. "Hmm... Purple doesn't seem to suit you. Maybe... A-ha! A yellow dress and a green one! And also the same colours for corsets..."

She ran up to the counter where I was standing in complete awe. The whole time while she was taking off the tags, she had been humming. My grandmother and I looked at each other. Her expression was content; mine was slightly terrified. I had never met someone so perky in my life. If she were back on Midgard, people would think she had a drug problem. But here, on Asgard – this strange, wonderful, magical place – it must have been incredibly normal. My only question was if she was from Greek mythology, what the hell was she doing in a Norse place?

My grandmother then explained to me quietly that Athena didn't like being a deity in Ancient Greece, so she discovered someone from Asgard and got them to bring her back with them. It was a short story, but I got the gist of it.

"Oh!" Athena shouted.

I jumped, looking back at her as she ran into the back of the shop to the weapons section. A moment later, she emerged from the back, carrying a bow and a case of arrows. "You will need these. Okay! So off you go. Here you are, Aphrodite." She set the things into my grandmother's arms.

"What do we owe you?" I asked.

"Don't be silly, Artemis." She pushed my shoulder playfully. "You are such a kidder. It is on the house. It has always been on the house. So...ta-da! Oh, but your family is the only exception – they have been coming for centuries. Off you go, now! Go get changed and practice with that bow and arrow!"

Grandmother and I walked out of the shop. I was still trying to figure out what happened in the shop. As the both of us walked toward the hut that my father, grandmother and I supposedly lived in, the events of the shop kept running through my mind. It seemed as if I didn't want to process the fact that Athena was so...happy and perky. I wondered what she was like when she lived in Ancient Greece. Obviously she didn't like it because of the story I was told, but what was the rest of the story?

The hut was cozy. I would have probably described it as something out of the Lord of the Rings. There was a small fire going in the fireplace. The place was dim, but with enough light for anyone to see. There were stairs going up a few feet, probably up to the place where everyone slept. There was a cute little couch – bigger than a loveseat, though – just a little to the side of the fireplace. Handmade carpets were scattered across the floor. There were paintings of people on the walls. In between each painting was an unlit torch. It felt like home, that's definitely for sure.

My father was just coming down the stairs as Grandmother shut the door behind us with her foot. I had spaced that I didn't realize the door was still open. Honestly, I would have shut it myself. Would I ever get used to such an interesting place?

"I spoke to the king, Arte-" Father started.

"King?!" I exclaimed. "Oh, sorry. Continue, please."

"You can work at the, uh...palace starting tomorrow morning, if you would like."

The sound that came out of my mouth was somewhere between a squeal, a scream and a shriek. Either way, it didn't sound much like a human sound, or a demigoddess' sound. Maybe it was my excitement, fright and anxiety that had caused it.

"King Odin - "

I quickly took out the textbook and flipped to Odin. "Oh..."

"And one more thing."

I looked up. "Yes?"

"You have a sister – half sister, rather – and her name is Hestia. She is the Virgin Goddess of... Well... Hmm... She does not want to acknowledge you since you are part Midgardian."

"Well, if she is my sister, then that means that you must have had a marriage or something or other with a Greek goddess. Why is she judging me if I'm half and half like she is?"

"She is angry at you since she is your elder sister and you were born a bastard child. She is the baby from my first marriage."

The front door opened, and in came this very modestly veiled woman with dark eyes like daggers, milky skin and long, flowing, straight blonde hair. When she turned around from closing the door, she frowned.

"Oh," she said, looking at me. "I see that _she _is here. Hello, Father, Grandmother. I shall retire to my bed."

"Shakespeare," I mumbled under my breath.

"I have been up all night, speaking with my dear virgins and I am dreary. See you in a few hours."

She quickly ran up the stairs, holding the front of her dress so she wouldn't trip. Her shoes didn't make a "clacking" sound, so I assumed she was wearing either boots or flat shoes.

Was she going to act like a little child if I was around? Or would she just treat me like I was a little child? Sure, I may have been her younger – albeit half – sister, why did she have to hate me for something that was completely out of my control? It wasn't as if I had asked for my father to go down to Midgard and get all "woo-hooie" with my mother. If anyone should have been blamed, it should have been my father. Of course I would have never told him that to his face. I wasn't going to let her bug me; I was used to it already. This kind of "torture" was going to be like a walk in the park.

"Anyway, dear, I will send a message to King Odin, saying that you accepted to work there," Grandmother volunteered.

"Thank you, Grandmother."


End file.
